


and i’m not trying to be with you, now

by yourendlessblue



Series: keep your helmet, keep your life on [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Doctors AU, F/M, Fluff, doctors in this goddamn pandemic au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:20:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26660572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourendlessblue/pseuds/yourendlessblue
Summary: “Careful,” she warns instead when the side of his arm touch hers as they walk, “social distancing.”Roy snorts and slings an arm over her shoulder instead, no doubt testing and pushing her limits. She elbows him mercilessly, because she doesn’t want him to sense her flushing under the touch.“Ow,” he protests. “Cruel, Hawkeye.”-(a doctors-in-this-pandemic-au that absolutely nobody asks for but what's the use of bare minimum writing skills if not to indulge and bring to life the scenarios and aus that you so deeply wants to read?)
Relationships: Riza Hawkeye/Roy Mustang
Series: keep your helmet, keep your life on [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1958929
Comments: 2
Kudos: 49





	and i’m not trying to be with you, now

**Author's Note:**

> while this is a very very lighthearted fic, on a more serious notes, please listen to the medical personnels & your government, and always keep yourself and your family & loved ones & society safe! there's a lot that this pandemic has took and disrupted and we really can't do it without you. 
> 
> stay healthy, much love <3
> 
> also yes, my stress relief is writing fics. *ariana grande and what about it gif*

“Hawkeye.”

Riza raises her head to see Roy Mustang sauntering towards her, the grin on his face evident even with the mask over his nose and mouth. She rolls her eyes, and doesn’t bother to stop herself from smiling.

These masks, other than the obvious, has their perks.

“I thought it’s Maes’ on call shift?” She says, as if she’s not delighted he’s the surgeon tonight. She works good and well with any one of the surgeons but things always work exceptionally well with Roy—not to say there hasn’t been times the patient coded on their table but even when they do they always work incredibly well as a team, and most often than not they lived. It wouldn’t be wise to expect otherwise, but there’s a comfort in knowing if anything goes wrong her work partner is amongst the most reliable ones.

“We switched. Don’t you miss me?” He asks, falling into step with her as they walk towards the prep room to don their PPEs. It’s almost midnight, eleven-forty, and they’ve been called because a patient in the Covid ICU had cardiac tamponade.

As a matter of fact, Riza kind of does. She pretends to side-eye him but in all reality tries to take in the sight of him in his royal blue scrubs that she often teases to be an eyesore amidst calming teal and soft aqua that most of the surgery department member has. It’s not even cardiothoracic surgery department’s scrubs, literally only him has that blue scrubs because she’s nursing an absolutely stupid _crush_ on a narcissistic and histrionic bastard. Her scrubs, on the contrary, are black, because the anesthesiology department is filled with efficient and collected and somewhat morose people. Their shifts haven’t coincided in almost a full month, and with the way the pandemic is going they can’t really hang out to have some casual, friendly, definitely platonic outings.

So, yeah, she kind of (really) misses him, and she also misses the sight of his stupid, unruly black hair that she hasn’t seen for way too long, hidden securely behind his matching blue surgical cap. Oddly enough, the urge to snatch that stupid cap (that she’s also wearing) and to run and ruffle her hands through the soft locks is even bigger than it used to be. As if she’s ever done that before.

“Careful,” she warns instead when the side of his arm touch hers as they walk, “social distancing.”

Roy snorts and slings an arm over her shoulder instead, no doubt testing and pushing her limits. She elbows him mercilessly, because she doesn’t want him to sense her flushing under the touch.

“ _Ow_ ,” he protests. “Cruel, Hawkeye.”

They step into the PPE room, and Hawkeye inadvertently shivers at the cold room. “Cold, Hawkeye?”

It shouldn’t sound as husky as it is. Riza rolls her eyes, forces herself to sound and feel as exasperated as she _should_ be to stop her mind from straying, because damn it, they’re here to operate on someone. “I won’t be in a minute,” she shrugs, and almost slaps herself over the head at the stupid response. She pretends his eyes doesn’t flash at that. “Have you ever felt _cold_ in those?” She hastily says, gesturing at the piles of hazmat suits.

“Touché,” he grins, walking away from her to wash his hands, and she follows. He steps away and takes his mask off, flashing her a grin that she _savours_ the sight of, reaching to the PPE sets. “Race me to wear this shit?”

“Don’t be stupid,” she says a little snappily while throwing her own surgical mask away, because she’s flustered. “Wear the PPE properly, not quickly.”

Roy pouts, because he’s the bane of her existence. “Party pooper,” he says, because she’s in love with a fucking _five year old_ and not a thirty-six year old man who have held hundreds of beating human hearts in his hands. (Hers is one of them.)

“Fine,” she says, after a few moments, and Roy grins, taking his watch out of his scrubs pocket. He hands her the box of N95 masks and she takes a fresh one.

“Go,” he says, and they proceed to put the PPEs on, each excruciating layer by layer; Riza puts it on as efficiently as possible while constantly reminding herself to wear them properly because she _refuses_ to be overcome by pride and a useless competitive streak like he has. Riza easily puts her masks, gloves, disposable surgical cap, and then lithely slips into the hazmat suit, zipping herself up with a flourish and ensuring everything’s sealed properly in place. In the end, Roy almost disgracefully trips himself over as he tries to get into the boots, while she puts her face shield on gingerly, trying hard to not be too smug.

“You regret it, don’t you,” she tells him, voice going off and nasal like one always does when speaking behind two masks, and she lets herself grin. “I win. What do I get?”

“Nothing,” he sniffs, and straightens himself. “I never said there was a prize.”

Riza contemplates for a moment then takes a bold step forward, reaching out to fix his surgical mask over the smooth N95. “Wear it properly,” she says, enunciating each word as clearly as possible in a lightly chiding way. Roy freezes. “Can’t have you getting sick.”

Her voice drops an octave without her realising, and she feels a little breathless. She tells herself it’s because of the suffocating masks.

“I want a rematch,” he whispers thickly. She was right. She doesn’t feel cold anymore, though a shiver runs through her spine.

Riza’s hand travels down, fiddling with the zipper and the additional adhesive seal on his hazmat, ensuring he’s all set in place. This must be an absolutely dumb look to outsiders, and even _she_ feels stupid. She’s looking up at him from layers of a face shield and eye goggles and he’s zipped up in a white suit from head to toe and the only thing visible from the both of them are their eyes.They look like silly astronauts. But still, as she rests her hands on his chest, she feels his laboured breaths and the faint, quick thrum of his heart beneath her two layers of gloves.

“Okay. When we take it off,” she says, reluctantly stepping back, licking her drying lips. She knows he can’t see her smile but she does anyways. “Someone’s waiting for us.”

**Author's Note:**

> in other words this is another piece of: an extremely specific and indulgent dumb as shit scenario/au that nobody asks for but please let me be i got no regrets for this lmao because im honestly tired of putting hazmat on!!!! so i’ll let them have the fun……….. because im single and also very burnt-out. i might make this a series..?
> 
> but on a more somber note, please stay healthy and always be vigilant for your health and wellbeings! <3
> 
> (also while the prospect of having your doctor writing raunchy fanfics in their spare time doesn’t seem all too promising, pls don’t judge me too much ok!!!!)


End file.
